


It Was Like That When We Got Here

by codenamecynic



Series: It came from the tumblr-verse [21]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor, Mages and Templars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 04:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5613841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codenamecynic/pseuds/codenamecynic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lynna and Saf, a mage and templar from the Hasmal Circle, join the Inquisition.  For glory, for adventure.  Also, there are bears.  (A collection of stories about an OC!mage and OC!templar during Inquisition)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What’s a Few Bears Between Friends?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [polkadotfoxx](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=polkadotfoxx).



> tumblr user polkadotfoxx wanted a story about an OC templar and an OC mage on the run together during the mage/templar war, so naturally this is not a self-insert fic at all, AT ALL.  *coughs* At all.

 

The first bear she'd ever seen up close and in person just so happened to be on fire.

That was, of course, after she'd set it on fire.  Accidentally.  On purpose.  Accidentally on purpose.  How was she to know that the panicked fireball she'd flung in its general forest-y direction would only piss the lumbering thing off?  Things generally stopped moving after they went _boom,_ that was just how it worked.  She had certain expectations.

Lynna ran downhill, away from the creature and apparently toward a small tributary where the bear must have also been heading, and was therefore chased by said bear as she sprint-flailed through the underbrush.  Her staff and hair and clothes and boots caught on every prickly bramble and exposed root, and she managed to tear herself free of a particularly obstinate vine only to stumble with both feet over a rock outcropping above a slow moving part of the river and pitch face first into the water.

It wasn't that deep, which was both bad and good, and as she crawled backward toward the shallows on the other bank as the enormous, fiery, incredibly pissed off bear bore down on her, she did the most useful thing she could think of and screamed her fool head off.

The bear's head dropped into the water between her legs with an anticlimactic sizzle, sliced cleanly from its lumbering body.  It shuddered and waddled forward a few more steps, tumbling off the outcropping and into the pool where she'd unceremoniously landed, the water turning murky and dark with blood and singed fur.

Saf stood on the rocks from which it had fallen, arm and sword held out before her as though she was a heroic statue hewn from the very stone itself.  Very vengeful, very stoic. 

Very much laughing at her, planting her massive sword in the dirt and leaning on its crossguard to peer down into the water at the mage who sat, soaked and sulking, in the shallows.  "Did you trip?"

"Shut up."

Saf continued to laugh, picking her way across the creek as Lynna drug her sopping self up onto the bank, stripping off dripping clothing as she went.  At least her pack was mostly waterproof (mostly) and at least it was a mostly sunny day (mostly), but Ferelden was cold as a witch's tit.

_"Let's go to the Hinterlands,_ she said," Lynna muttered, yanking one of her boots off and upending it onto the ground.  An unlucky little fish fell out, flapped around, and bounced back into the stream.  _"Let's join the Inquisition,_ she said.  Well she bloody well forgot to mention all the fucking _bears!"_

"You have got to be the _worst_ mage," Saf said, absolutely unapologetic, dumping an armful of mostly-dry wood on the ground and shielding her face with an upraised arm when Lynna grumpily lit it with a spell.

"Oh like you're _such_ a good templar?" she groused, standing practically in the flames, her feet already muddy and freezing.  She put one hand up in a terrible mockery of a shield.  "The power of Andraste compels you!"

"What was I supposed to do, smite it?"

"Yes!"

"It's a _bear."_

"And?!"

Saf was laughing again, shoving whole leaves of elfroot into her mouth.  She'd been chewing the stuff since they'd run short of lyrium outside Amaranthine, and it was making her lips sort of green.  Saf kept saying it was a shitty fucking drug and Lynna kept telling her that wasn't how elfroot worked, but templars had a long history of not listening to mages so why should that change just because the Circles were in an uproar?  Typical.

"I remember a certain someone who just couldn't _wait_ to get outside.  All that wonderful green nature-"

"That was before I realized that someone put actual _nature_ in my nature.  I'm a Circle mage for crying out loud."  Lynna sniffed, rubbing her arms.  "I'm a delicate flower."

"You're allergic to flowers."

"My point exactly.  And why does nature have to include so much dirt anyway?"

"Uh, Lyn-" 

"Why is this place a breeding ground for ursine?"

_"Lyn-"_

"And more importantly," she continued, barreling right over the top of whatever her companion was saying, wringing her hair out in a deluge that threatened their small fire.  _"Most_ importantly, why are they all so angry?!"

"You could try asking these fine people," Saf suggested mildly, gaining her feet.  Her postures were relaxed but her hand reached for the hilt of her sword.

Lynna narrowed her eyes, planting fists on her nearly-bare hips.  "It's the Inquisition, isn't it.  It's right behind me."

Both Saf's blond brows rose in an expression as though to say _you think?_ , a throat cleared awkwardly just behind her.

Well that was just bloody great.  She turned around slowly, very aware that she was covered in mud and leaves and probably fish, standing in just her underwear in the middle of the Ferelden wilderness while Saf laughed and everyone else tried politely not to look at her.  The white flag of the Inquisition standard flapped, its eye and sword staring down judgingly over everyone's head like unfortunately timed divine providence.

"That," she said, pointing at the still-smoking decapitated bear corpse floating gently in the river.  "Was like that when we got here."

Behind her Saf just groaned, and slapped a hand into her forehead.


	2. Double Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're just too good at getting into trouble.

It turns out they were incredibly good at getting into trouble.  Not that that was actually all that surprising.

The Commander, however, did not look terribly amused, but they _were_ dripping mud, blood and sweat on his nice neat floor.  Pretty judgy for someone in a very confusing fur coat, but there was no accounting for taste or fashion sense.

“One of you, explain to me what happened.”

Lynna’s eyes slid over to the left and found Saf already looking right.  Both of them shifted awkwardly, boots squelching.

Commander Cullen sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “Well?”

**

They’d been at Skyhold for approximately five minutes, and Saf already wanted back out into the field.

Lynna, on the other hand, wanted to build a nest out of books and fluffy pillows and never move again.

“We didn’t join the Inquisition to sit around guarding yet another shitty building.”

“Well _I_ know that, and _you_ know that, but my bloody _feet_ don’t know that, and they don’t listen to reason.  And there are bears.”  Lynna’s eyebrows rose pointedly.  “Bears.”

Saf rolled her eyes and leaned on the wall next to where Lynna was standing, one of the feet in question kicking its heel against the stone as they watched another unit of recruits running through the drills they’d just performed themselves that morning.  “You’re just allergic to nature.”

“I am not.  Not when it’s people-shaped and doesn’t include pollen, anyway.”

“Worst mage.”

“Blah blah, says the templar who doesn’t know how to use a shield.”

Saf sighed for the umpteenth time.  “You’d think you’d be happy, it just means I wasn’t out in the field chasing around you lot.”

“Well, first of all, you wouldn’t have caught me.”  That was a total lie.  “And second, I think what it really means is our Circle was kind of shitty.”

“Well.  Can’t argue with that.”

The courtyard was packed with soldiers crammed in any which way that would fit, visitors, various aides, errand runners and spectators alike milling around the margins, getting in each other’s way.  There was a lot of yelling, a lot of cursing, and just a whole lot of mud.  Skyhold didn’t look a thing like any of those tapestries hanging in the library at Hasmal, with their flag flying fortresses of old.  Half of it was falling down for Maker’s sake, half the troops taking turns at sleeping on the ground. 

It was winter in the shitty Ferelden Frostbacks.  The ground was fucking cold.

There was a preponderance of banners in the courtyard, weaving about trying not to get tangled as one dignitary or another marched a pompous ass into the keep proper to talk business with Ambassador Montilyet and the Inquisitor.  They’d join up if they knew what was good for them.  Lynna had seen the Breach before the Inquisitor closed it, and she’d rather fight an army of bears with a soup spoon and a handful of angry badgers than get too close to anything that came out of the rifts.

 They gave way to let a group of knights through, the crest of an Orlesian lord emblazoned on the white tabards they wore over brightly shined armor.  That wasn’t going to last long here, in the wet.  It didn’t stop them from strutting like peacocks, intentionally swaggering around like big stupid brontos with puffed chests and gross idiot looking faces and –

**

“Get to it, recruit.”

“Sorry, Ser.”

**

One of the men at the front rammed his shoulder hard into hers as he passed, even though she’d _courteously_ edged out of the way _._   It knocked her over and sent her stumbling into Saf, who by long force of habit just put her back upright and turned to stare.  “Hey!”

“Watch your step, _mage_ , or I’ll teach you to keep out of the way of your betters.”

Lynna’s mouth dropped open, pain in her shoulder forgotten in the wake of the unexpected vitriol from a total stranger.  “Excuse me?”

His mustache looked sneeringly smug; even smugger because it was Orlesian.  “Your kind running free is a disgrace, a slight against the Chantry.  Begone, _filth,_ before I have you thrown in the dungeons where you belong.”

_“Excuse me!?”_

“Alright,” Saf interceded, one hand lifted in a gesture meant to make peace.  “That’s not necessary Ser.  Lynna, let’s go.”

“Fuck that, I’m not taking that off some waxed up dandy fop.”

“Lynna.  Let’s go.”

“How refreshing, a templar who still does her duty. Even if she should be bending knee in Val Royeaux, and not collecting mud and shit for Ferelden doglords.” 

The peaceful hand dropped, one blond brow rising with epic precision to replace it.  “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

The knight shouldered his way forward, chest puffed and breastplate clanging where it butted up against Saf’s when she refused to give way.  “I said you’re a traitor, and a coward, and you reek of dogshit.”

“Is that all.”  Nothing she could do about it now, this man was going to die.  Saf was going to eat him for breakfast, and she was going to watch, and it was going to be _amazing_.  “Just thought I’d check.  I know in Orlais they teach you how to suck cock before they teach you how to read, so I thought I’d be nice and make sure you were using all the right words.”  She smiled.  “You should brush your teeth, your breath smells like balls.”

It all went downhill from there.

There wasn’t enough space in the courtyard to draw steel, which was probably for the best because neither of them were carrying proper weapons, she’d abandoned her staff in the first six seconds, and there was no way in the Maker’s shitty green Fade that Lynna was going to use magic.  She wasn’t actually _trying_ to die today, or kill anyone really, but that did not mean that she wasn’t going to head butt the first man to try to drive his gauntleted fist into Saf’s kidneys from behind.

She’d always wanted to do that.  Turned out it hurt a bit more than she was expecting, but that was fine, she didn’t need to see out both of her eyes to fight, having perfect vision was obviously overrated.  Saf was clearly doing great, bleeding out one nostril and a bald spot on the side of her head where someone had ripped a chunk of hair out, flattening a man with her shield and using it to slowly crush his face and torso into the chewed up sod.

Lynna was pretty sure that wasn’t an officially-endorsed move, but it was incredibly effective and hilarious to watch. 

Her ability to hold her own in a brawl was not quite as efficient, managing to land the odd punch or kick and when that failed just flinging herself at the nearest person who didn’t look like they were on her side and tackling them to the ground.  Before long she had a small radius of prone bodies around her, struggling to get out of the dirt in their heavy ceremonial armor.  Saf stepped on them occasionally and it was brilliant, fighting with much more dignity with her elbows and fists, but all told there were more of them then there were of her, and they were back to back with fists raised and mud all over –

**

“And that’s when Lady Vivienne yelled down that she would freeze us all into little grubby statues if we didn’t cease immediately.  Ser.  So we stopped.”

It was hard to tell what the Commander was thinking.  Lynna had heard that he’d been a Knight-Captain in the Kirkwall Circle before the war broke out, and she could certainly believe it.  His super expressive total lack of expression reminded her of the Knight-Commander at the Circle back home, who most of the time made it seem like they were all misbehaving teenagers who ought to be spanked.

In the ‘you’re in trouble’ way, not the sexy way.  Important distinctions.

She’d just thought Commander Cullen would be older.  And balder.  She wasn’t sure why.  Probably stress.  He looked like the kind of guy who would tear his own hair out.

“So what you’re telling me is, two of my soldiers allowed themselves to be provoked by _insults_ and started the equivalent of a rowdy bar brawl in my courtyard.”

“Uh…”

“With the fighting force of a foreign dignitary.”

“Well…”

“No, no.  I think the issue is quite clear.  What I’m going to do with the two of _you_ , however-”  He shook his head.  “Occasionally, we _will_ be insulted.  Discipline must be maintained.”

Well, shit.  She could feel Saf frowning next to her, silent and stiff with feet rooted through the floor.  Still too much a templar, she guessed, still too invested in rules and rank and file.  Which she guessed made sense – that’s why they’d even bothered to join the Inquisition, right?  They were always on and on about how they were going to restore order, and she and Saf were supposed to be (granted, a very small) part of that.

The fact that she was sort of terrible at it wasn’t anybody’s fault.  Certainly not Saf’s, anyway.

“Ser, I take full responsibility.”

“Shut up, Lynna,” Saf hissed out the corner of her mouth.

“You shut up.”  Lynna frowned at her.  “It was totally my fault.  I mouthed off and Saf was just looking out for me.”

“I’m the one who said his breath smelled like balls.”

“Well it did.” Lynna looked back at the Commander, who had both eyebrows hitched up to somewhere near his hairline.  “It did.  Anyway Ser, if anyone deserves demerits or digging ditches or whatever you army types do for punishment, it’s me.”

“Respectfully Ser, I disagree.”

“You would.”

“And why this would even surprise you, I swear I do-”

Commander Cullen cleared his throat.  “Recruits?  If you’re both done volunteering to dig latrines for the next fortnight, I think you might find it interesting to know that your little stunt actually _helped_ the Inquisition.”  It looked like it pained him to admit it, but Lynna thought she caught just a tiny little bit of amusement lurking beneath the scar on his upper lip.  “The lord whose men you fought was so embarrassed by their behavior that he gave Lady Josephine the trade concessions she wanted.”

Oh.  “So… we’re not in trouble, Ser?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Lynna blinked.  “Oh.”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment until the Commander evidently got tired of watching them fidget (or Lynna fidget, anyway, as Saf was pointedly _not_ fidgeting) and drip mud on the floor.  “Alright go, get out of here.”

Lynna exhaled explosively. “Thank you Ser.”

“With a warning,” he admonished, pointing a finger at both of them. “No more brawling.”

“Yes Ser.”

“You were both at Hasmal Circle, were you not?” he said suddenly, before they could make it out the door.

Saf glanced at her.  “Ser?”

“You served, and you-” He looked at Lynna like he wasn’t sure how to politely call her a mage, even though she thought it seemed sort of obvious, what with the staff and the robes and all.

“Yes Ser.”

“And you chose to join the Inquisition… together.”

It wasn’t really a question and she didn’t really have an answer that wasn’t somewhere along the lines of _duh_ , but Saf would absolutely murder her if she mouthed off again so soon after a reprieve, so she held her tongue.

Not that it mattered.  “Figured it was best, Ser.  Lynna starts fights she can’t finish.”

“Hey!”

“Couldn’t just leave her on her own.”

“Well good luck setting bears on fire by yourself,” she snarked, and then glanced at the Commander’s face.  “Not that we did that.”

She didn’t think he was even listening, arms folded over his chest again, all the weight on his back heel as though he was at the same time trying to withstand and repel this conversation _that he’d instigated_ going on in his doorway.  Lynna glanced at Saf and attempted to convey with her eyes and multiple unsubtle jerks of her head toward the ramparts that they should run away as quickly as possible before one of them said something that was going to land them scrubbing dishes for a week, and Saf for once seemed to agree.

“Is that… all, Ser?”

The Commander huffed a little sigh that also could have been a laugh, and waved them away.  “Go.  Stay out of trouble.”

As if they could even.


End file.
